to limbo I shan't go
my knees dread the jump, skip and hoop rope rodeo
released from the coffin my heart has been set loose
signed and past-dated, gated and chained no longer
a trail ran cold, a chill lingers in the air
oh good lord those howls aren't dogs at all?
or surely the domesticated sort
how many bodies can my attic conceal
limps reaching the ceilling in a messy senseless rebellion
against space, a disgrace of unfanthomable proportions
sinners deserve the fire but times are hard, oh so tense
economy runs wide and large and we cannot spare further pyre
the magical number is the unsettling sort
not quite the power struggle of the narrow airways
brushed off whenever the party has died down
and we greet for one, last, time: farewell
snap, crack, tap; make them feel defeated
you are what you eat after all, not what you fuck (up)
good lord they think they can outrun me, aha
to smother is to regain control by borrowing time
to lie is to sound less ingrateful to the poor sods pleading for air
risen to dive in a pursuit anew
an ocean of souls betrays the lack of oxygen received
saturated by lines afloat, reeking of troubling desires
perfume, meant to seduce and attract
ensares, traps just the same
bones feel like porcelane when the call goes adrift
do I dare look back at what I have become,
is there, ahead, past the blurry horizon
precipice or crossroad;
salvation or dammnation
our forebearers do call, warn and protest
choice words we adamant steel ourselves again in natural progress
an irrelevant attempt at biting back in anger, protesting a fury
now dull, now echo.
you dont know what you have
until you lose it
isn't that a trial that fire cannot erase.
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